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VIOLET VERSES 



LILLIAN HOPWOOD WARD 




BOSTON 

RICHARD G. BADGER 

THE GORHAM PRESS 
I9II 



Copyright, 1910, by Lillian H. War<1 



All Rights Reserved 



The author wishes to express her thanks to The 
Eberle Music Co. for permission to use some of the 
verses in this volume. 



^ 



The Gorham press, Boston, U, S. A. 



CU278726 






These verses few I've named for yoUj 

O timid little flower. 
May they suggest all that is best. 

And share your gentle power. 



Violet, of all the spectrum, 
Thy ray is most refrangible. 

Violet, of all the blossoms. 
Thy meaning most intangible. 



CONTENTS 

Page 

The Strongest 9 

To a Brave Boy lO 

Congeniality I ^ 

A Happy New Year I2 

The Lily and the Violet 13 

The Cupid Clock 15 

To You, Dear Heart 16 

The Trolley Car 17 

To the Snowflakes 18 

The Thoughtless Word 18 

A Knowing Elf 19 

October 20 

''Regents" 21 

My Garden 22 

Mother s Face 22 

"Do It Now" 23 

A Glorious Fourth 24 

After Thanksgiving 25 

''Slim" 26 

Christmas Bells 27 

Ninety and Four 28 

Advertising in Rhyme 30 

As You Say It 30 

The Cupid Clock and the Match-Safe Girl. . 31 

A Presentation 32 

5 



CONTENTS 

Page 

Presenting an Official Badge 32 

To Mrs. Joseph Wiser 33 

To the Lost Umbrella 34 

The Lily-Bells' Chime 35 

Since I Love You 37 

That Dear Old Home 38 

Alta Chase 39 

Jimmy's Day in Town 41 

Leaf Dance 43 

Autumn Song 44 

'Tis Better So 45 

Raindrops 46 

To-Morrow 47 

Spring Sunbeams 48 

Lonely 49 

Consolation 50 

The Clock 51 

Just to be True 52 

To a Butterfly 53 

February 54 

Lullaby 55 

Do You Know? 56 

The Last Leaf 57 

Walking on the Shadows 59 

To the Stenographer 60 

A Smile Worth While 61 

Music — By Dick 63 

6 



VIOLET VERSES 



THE STRONGEST 

The strongest wins — ah, yes — 'tis true. 
But who is strong, I would ask you ? 

The one whose form shows perfect health ? 
The one who wins by means of wealth? 

The one who lightly overpowers — 
Whose great endurance braves the hours? 

The one who dares great danger face 
And in its midst takes foremost place? 

The one who by far-reaching thought, 
For public good great wonders wrought? 

Such heroes — and they are not few — 
Deserve their laurels, it is true. 

But is he not the strongest one 
Who hath a noble duty done? 

WTio in his corner — urged to wrong — 
Hath dared defy, hath dared be strong? 

Who in a simple, quiet, way 

Hath dared that little "No!" to say? 



TO A BRAVE BOY 

Have you told your mother, Willie, — 
Told her of the wrong you've done? 

Have you told her of the struggle — 
And the victory you have w^on? 

He w^ho dares to conquer evil, 
He who dares to do the right, 

Is a victor worthy honor 
As a true and noble knight. 

Evil ones may mock and jeer you, 
Yet they know that you are strong. 

While they laugh, in truth, they fear you, 
Know themselves that they are wrong. 

We that love you, love you better 
For each brave and noble deed ; 

And we honor, we respect you. 
One may follow where you lead. 

We are each in you confiding, 
Trusting you to do your best ; 

For your truth has just been proven, 
You have nobly passed the test. 

Have you told your mother, Willie, 
So that she may feel this joy? 

Is she not both proud and happy 
That the hero is her boy? 

God knows all about it, Willie, 
It was He that made you strong. 

And through Him you will forgive them 
Who have led you into wrong. 



lO 



And there's sweetness in forgiving, 
As there's joy in doing right; 

And in making others happy 
You have found a pure delight. 

CONGENIALITY 

His soul is like the great north wind, 
Intense, and stern, and cold; 

He loves to feel the storm's embrace, 
So wrathful, strong, and bold. 

The storm, to him, is like himself 

In humor and in mood ; 
Yet every storm, however fierce. 

With kindness is imbued. 

The while it plays him rough and free, 

It takes away his care; 
Thus, in his joys and sorrows too. 

The storm has rightful share. 



II 



A HAPPY NEW YEAR 

A happy new year to you. 
May all who are dear to you 
Remain ever near to you 

Throughout Its days. 
Bid evil depart from you, 
Keep frowns all apart from you, 
Thus lighten the heart of you — 

Seek the best ways. 

May treasures reserved for you 
Be closely observed by you, 
May each be deserved by you 

When it is found. 
They sparkle quite near to you, 
When seen they are dear to you, 
Though oft all is drear to you, 

Search not the ground. 

The jewels most rare to you, 
The flowers most fair to you. 
Sweet voices declare to you, 

God will bestow. 
Let conscience decide for you. 
Your heart be a guide for you ; 
And peace will abide with you, 

Joy you will know. 

May happiness dwell with you, 
May all things be well with you, 
May every move tell for you. 

Let there be cheer. 
May this be a bright new year, 
A swift-moving, light new year, 
A high-ruling, right new year — 

Happy New Year! 
12 



THE LILY AND THE VIOLET 

The lily stood in mournful mien 
And could not help repining; 

She felt so stiff, and cold, and pale. 
Although the sun was shining. 

What though her chalice was so pure. 
What though her heart was golden, 

She knew she lacked the truest worth 
For which to be beholden. 

She kept aloof from other flowers, 
She would not share their pleasure ; 

Though timidly they turned to her 
To plead for other measure. 

The weeds, with hers their poorer lot 
And homelier way comparing, 

Had made her feel that even they 
Had treasure worth the sharing. 

A robin gayly greeted her, 

In wealth of song uniting 
The sweetest tones, the richest thought, 

Of his own heart's inditing. 

The sun had smiled when he beheld 

The lily's dewy chalice, 
And kissed her in his own warm way 

To drive away her malice. 

She slowly drooped her weary head 

As in the days declining 
She felt that some sweet influence 

Was for her good combining. 

13 



A zephyr softly stirred the grass — 
The lily, slightly bending, 

Saw there a timid violet 

Its joy and sweetness lending. 

The lily loved the violet 
Because it was contented 

And took from it the message that 
From others she resented. 

The timid little violet 

Cared not for self's own pleasure, 
But gently gave its fragrant grace 

To fill another's measure. 



14 



THE CUPID CLOCK 

Little Cupid has come with a clock in his hand, 

And a serious look on his face. 
E'er so lightly and daintily poised, see him stand 

With such sweet, indefinable grace. 

And as Clotho is holding the distaff of life 

And Lachesis is spinning its thread, 
Little Cupid is guiding through all of its strife, 

In the way that God wills me be led. 

While old Time gliding swiftly and steadily on — 
Never pausing for one who is slow — 

So relentlessly hastens the minutes along, 
Cupid bids me be ready to go. 

Yes, he lovingly bids me to wake, or to sleep, 
Or to do that which ought to be done. 

Through the rest of my life, he will carefully keep 
watch 
And record every victory that's won. 

And this same little Cupid, in league with old Time, 
Will take note of each thought that's too late, 

Till Atropos shall cut, at the moment sublime. 
The fine thread that has measured my fate. 



15 



TO YOU, DEAR HEART 

Your face is serious now, dear heart, 

The old bright smile is gone. 
The voice that once was soft and gay 

Has now a deeper tone. 

Those eyes that once with laughter gleamed 
Are now grown gently grave, 

And lines upon your face make known 
That you are true and brave. 

'Twas when care met with you, dear heart, 

That first the shadows came. 
And since that time your winding way 

Has never been the same. 

'Twas then the full deep light of truth 
So changed your dear, dear face, 

And gave to it that tenderness 
That ever keeps its place. 

There came a wealth of earnest love 

To share with all mankind. 
A quiet, generous, gentle grace 

With courage close combined. 

A true and earnest self, dear heart, 

Awoke in you that day, 
And patient thought for others came 

As you pursued your way. 

The softened smile upon your face 

Is dearer still, dear heart, 
Revealing thus the noble soul 

In which our God has part. 



i6 



THE TROLLEY CAR 

The trolley car bumping and swaying along 

Keeps time to its own weird electrical song. 

When all are aboard and the bell has rung twice, 

The door slides in place and we're off in a trice. 

It thumps over switches in merriest way, 

Then evenly glides with a soft, soothing sway. 

It swings round the corner with rollicking roll 

And has to be careful or off comes its pole. 

With whizzing, and whirring, and jingling of bells. 

The trolley runs on and its merriment tells. 

It sighs as it comes and its sings as it goes 

The merry old song that most everyone knows. 

The conductor is cheerful, kind, and polite; 

The motorman, earnest, and careful, and right. 

Yes, that's when we have all the time that we need 

And are to its passing not giving least heed. 

But when we would hurry the car is so slow, 

Impatient, we cry out, *'Why doesn't it go?" 

Perhaps it goes by us and leaves us to wait. 

We glare at the crew with surprise, or with hate. 

It comes to the corner at just the right time, 

We hasten to take it with smiles quite sublime. 

If, when we are waiting, it isn't in sight. 

We anxiously watch for its name or its light. 

The trolley car really has all of man's ways 

And most of them daily it clearly betrays. 

It helps and it hinders, it makes great ado. 

It teases and pleases, it angers us, too. 

But when it breaks down we just hasten away. 
"That other will take us," is all that we say. 



17 



TO THE SNOWFLAKES 

Little snowflakes, softly falling, 

Like a blessing from above, 
Give to us your silent greeting 

Full of peace, and joy, and love. 

Little snowflakes, pure and playful, 
You are romping with the wind, 

Whirling, floating, chasing, resting, 
Graceful, gentle, not unkind. 

Little snowflakes, white and dainty. 
You are welcome as you fall. 

Bringing messages from Heaven 

From the One who loves us all. 

THE THOUGHTLESS WORD 

How large the little word is — 

The thoughtless word we say. 
That can eclipse the sunshine 

From out another's day. 
We never can recall it. 

It is so big with wrong, 
The distance it has traveled 

Is very, very long. 
We sadly think upon it 

And wish it were unsaid. 
Nor wonder at the sadness 

That on the heart is shed. 
The one we wrong forgives us. 

And God grants pardon, too; 
But still a little shadow 

Is cast on me and you. 



i8 



A KNOWING ELF 

In an old galvanometer dwelt a queer elf 

That could sway the long pointer to suit its small 

self. 
When, a student, I begged it desist from its pranks, 
It just perched on the needle and said, ''Oh, no, 

thanks!" 
And it doffed its peaked cap and it bowed as it 

said, 
"Don't you know how this indicant ought to be 

read?" 
And that taunting young elf, as I deigned no reply. 
Only danced on the needle and winked its bright 

eye. 
All around went that pointer — the elf, all in red. 
Gaily climbed on and twisted the very fine thread. 
All impatient I called to my teacher for aid, 
While the elf laughed, "Ha, ha! So you think I'm 

afraid!" 
But the teacher saw nothing to cause my delay. 
As that mischievous elf had just scampered away. 
From its place of concealment peeped its bright eyes 
With a look all too seriously goody and wise. 
"The old needle won't move as it should," I de- 
clared ; 
So he shook it, looked closely, pronounced it re- 
paired. 
But as soon as he left me, that elf, coming out 
From its hiding, began on a still gayer bout. 
Once again that old needle went frisking around, 
Or it moved not at all, till my wrath knew no 

bound. 
Oh, I shook it, enraged that my work was not done, 
That I had of the "Readings" I needed, not one! 
Still the merry elf pranced and its laughter was 
gay, 

19 



Then it spoke to me softly — I heard its voice say : 
"I am placed here to teach you a lesson you need. 
If you're patient and gentle, why then you may 

read." 
In the old galvanometer dwells that same elf, 
But the "Readings" God takes while I point for 

myself. 

OCTOBER 

October, with her hazy views 
Enhanced by many rainbow hues, 
Prepares a great and goodly cheer 
To help us through the coming year. 
She puts to sleep each tiny seed. 
And ripens fruit for future need. 
She from each gleaning stores the best, 
And gives a time for welcome rest. 

The month that is, may pass away. 
Its purpose served, why need it stay? 
The one best suited takes its place, 
And gives the earth a fairer face. 
And so, in passing, one by one, 
The months do wisely what is done; 
And each in turn is welcomed back. 
For each one has what others lack. 



20 



"REGENTS" 

There is silence in the schoolrcM>m 
When the Regents' work is on, 

All the constant little tumults — 
All the dear confusion gone. 

As I watch the anxious faces, 
Each with earnestness supreme; 

As I watch the pen's quick motion 
Oh, it seems it were a dream! 

Three long hours of deathly stillness 
Broken by the loud tick tock 

Of the seconds quickly passing 
As they're told out by the clock! 

Just one pen is scratching fiercely. 

Racing with my Katie's thought 
Is a task by which his penship 

Knows he soon must come to nought. 

Mamie's hand is moving slowly 

But I know her thoughts are strong. 

And her work when it is finished 
Will have little that is wrong. 

How anxiety is deepening! 

It Is near the closing hour! 
The Intensity of purpose 

Reaches now its utmost power. 

But the spell at last Is broken — 

All the papers given In. 
Oh, how many things are thought of 

That are not but might have been! 



21 



MY GARDEN 

Vm laying out a garden small, 

And causing some good seeds to fall. 

Vm weeding, training, all day long, 

That my dear plants may grow more strong. 

Their blossoms I may never see. 

On some a flower may never be; 

But when I see a leaf expand, 

Or when I guide some tendril hand, 

I like to feel that it has grown 

From one small seed that I have sown. 

As in the parable of old, 

Not all the seeds I sow are told ; 

There is so much that I would do. 

The things accomplished are so few ! 

My garden is the dear, old school; 

Its plants, the children that I rule, 

And pleasure comes whene'er I see 

Their well-known faces turn to me. 

MOTHER'S FACE 

On mother's face the care-lines rest, 

Her eyes are wearied, too; 
But, oh, it has a look so kind. 

So tender, sweet, and true! 

In that dear face is God's own love. 
And messages from Heaven. 

In every patient, gentle glance. 
There is a lesson given. 

That face is truly beautiful, 
Which, when we scan it o'er. 

Reveals to us a precious thought 
That was not ours before. 
22 



"DO IT NOW" 

If you've aught against one, say it; 

Leave him not to wonder why 
He is met with looks of coldness — 

Seeing, yet unseeing eye. 

Tell him that you think he's wronged you- 

It may be 'twas all unmeant, 
And the cause that you have cherished, 

One your own conclusion lent. 

He may feel no need of speaking, 
Trusting that he's done his best, 

Searching for your motive vainly — 
Waits for you to do the rest. 

He feels hurt at your unkindness — 
Longs to call you friend once more. 

Will you thus to keep him waiting? 
Will you not unlock the door? 

Meet him there with gentle greeting, 
Tell him why you've passed him by; 

He'll explain to you his action, 
With a pained and truthful eye. 

Passing clouds give way to brightness, 
Winter's cold gives way to heat; 

Let your clouds roll by forever. 
And your trust be made complete, 

While your eyes give friendly greeting 
And your hands in friendship meet. 



23 



A GLORIOUS FOURTH 

The firecracker gallantly tears off 

Its jacket of well-meaning red, 
Torpedoes each burst in their gladness, 

Each bombshell with joy cracks its head. 
The blue-light its lurid hue giveth, 

The chaser its fiery path makes, 
The candle sends forth balls of color, 

The rocket its forceful curve takes, 
The pin wheel whirls gayly in gladness. 

Its sparks all in finest forms fall, 
While the cannon breaks into thunder, 

Intending to outdo them all. 
Balloons in their triumph ascending. 

How gayly ride out on the breeze! 
Each form of our fireworks is doing 

Its best and its loudest to please. 
How clear is the laughter of children, 

How hearty the aged man's shout; 
While bells are a tuneful song ringing, 

And flags flap in most joyous bout! 
Some think all this noise is quite useless. 

While others are stirred by its might. 
It shows the American loveth 

His dearly won freedom and right. 



24 



AFTER THANKSGIVING 

Thanksgiving Day has come and gone. 

The turkey did full well 
To please the people, every one, 

For w^hose repast he fell. 

Among the poor, perhaps the more, 
True thankfulness was found, 

Than 'twas within the rich man's door 
Where plenty doth abound. 

Oh thankful hearts, indeed had they! 

They felt their F:. ' ve. 

And He who helps them o. eir way, 

Prepares a home above — 

Where rich and poor alike will be. 
Where want will not be known, 

Where every one from care quite free 
May kneel before God's throne. 

Such days as this help us to bear 

The darkness of our way. 
As beacon lights set here and there, 

They guide us to the Day. 

We pause and think of God's great love, 

Of blessings we've received. 
Our sorrows take to Him above, 

And straightway feel relieved. 

Thanksgiving Day has come and gone. 
We've met those who are dear. 

Oh may we greet them, every one, 
When comes this day next year! 



25 



"SLIM" 

Our Herbert was so very stout, 
The boys nick-named him "Slim." 

They said the elevator slipped 
Whenever filled with him. 

But Herbert spoke in gentle tone, 

His fantasies were new, 
And not in courtesy alone 

Was he excelled by few. 

Although quite firm in argument 
Our "Slim" was always fair. 

Quite willingly his aid he lent. 
He nobly did his share. 

The work, the fun, the troubles deep, 

He met with cheerful zest, 
And when he failed in studies steep 

He gayly sought the West. 

At first he tried surveying trips 
And learned a thing or two, 

But that's a hill with many slips. 
Surveying would not do. 

The very mud upon his boots 
Had made his progress slow. 

So there he found no tiny shoots 
Of what he ought to know. 

Now farther westward "Slim" has hied 

To keep a general store. 
And there quite long he may abide 

On 'Couver's distant shore. 

26 



We miss our "Slim." We liked his ways. 

But though we wish him back, 
May sunshine brighten all the days 

And business be not slack. 

We hope that "Slim" will be sincere 

To his ideals, too. 
We trust that he will never fear 

A noble deed to do. 

We would "Slim" knew what kindly thought 

Will follow him "out West." 
We miss the happy smile he brought. 

We miss his ready jest. 

CHRISTMAS BELLS 

Happy, happy bells are ringing 
On this holy Christmas morn. 

Joyfully the tidings bringing 
Of a Saviour who is born. 

Oft we've heard this old, old story 

But its words are ever dear. 
Ring it out with new found glory; 

Ring it loud that all may hear. 

Into tender sweetness gliding, 
Tell of wise-men that were led — 

Mystic star so softly guiding — 
To the Christ-Child's lowly bed. 



27 



NINETY AND FOUR 

Yes, Grandmother Stratton is ninety and four. 

How slowly we say it, 

As if we would weigh it 
And show you how neatly the balance is caught. 

With summer advancing 

All beauty enhancing, 
'Tis Grandmother greets us from her open door; 

For sitting beside it, 

(There's no need to hide it) 
She's flirting with those who her bright smile have 
sought, 

Her eyes are discerning, 

Each bow she's returning, 
And waving her hand in the merriest way. 

At times in our hurry, 

Right by her we skurry. 
And leave her to wonder who 'twas that went past; 

Then later we seize her 

And kiss her and tease her, 
For she didn't know who went by her that day. 

No use to deny it. 

She must abide by it. 
She smiles for she knows all about it at last. 

She deserves our protection, 

Our lasting affection. 
Through all of these years she's done nobly and 
well. 

Her five sons are living, 

Her daughter is giving 
All brightness she can to the sweet, simple life. 

How well they protect her! 

How deeply respect her! 
With her and her children may happiness dwell. 

Three sons fought with daring, 

The war-dangers sharing, 
28 



And all are now mingling with outer-world's strife, 

Excepting the daughter 

Who gently besought her, 
The mother, to stay in the daughter's neat home. 

So there she's remaining 

And youth she is gaining. 
In questions of moment she takes active part: 

In science advancing; 

In progress entrancing; 
In politics, too; in the earth's starry dome. 

Her interest is keen and 

Her smile so serene and 
She has a most kind, most affectionate heart. 

Whatever the season 

There always is reason 
For going to visit that neat little place 

Where Grandmother Stratton 

With love as her baton 
Directs all the household in her modest way. 

How gay is our chorus 

WTien she is before us! 
How patient and bright is her dear kindly face! 

To ninety and four 

And on to five score. 
We greet you, dear Grandmother Stratton, to-day. 



29 



ADVERTISING IN RHYME 

Advertising in rhyme 

Is a scheme of the time. 
A live and a good one it seems to be, too, 
Provided of course that it tells w^hat is true. 

And it needs be the rhymes 

As a song of the times 
Proclaim what is best of the kind to be bought, 
And bring to the people a subject worth thought. 

AS YOU SAY IT 

''That's bully," you say and you mean it, too. 
I know by the tone of your voice 't is true. 
Your one little word that is not quite pure, — 
But bully it is so it must endure. 
It means oh so much as you say it, dear, 
Your one naughty word that I love to hear. 



30 



THE CUPID CLOCK AND THE MATCH- 
SAFE GIRL 

A shepherdess girl on a match-holding stand, 
A Cupid that carried a clock in his hand, 
Once silently stood at my bureau's each end ; 
And each wished to find in the other a friend. 
He held out his hand as it were, "Will you come?" 
She thought of the matches and offered him some. 
But she could not move from the place where she 

stood. 
He liked her the better for being so good. 
But he for the matches had not the least need. 
'Twas only to her and to time he gave heed. 
Her dress was of blue and her slippers of gold. 
Her left arm was raised that her hat she might hold. 
The dress and the hat were as blown by the wind. 
Her hair was a-waving, her eager eyes kind. 
And Cupid was clothed in a scarf of pure gold. 
His left hand uplifted, the clock in its hold. 
The scarf was around him quite gracefully thrown. 
His smile, — the same smile by which Cupid is 

known, 
A smile at once serious, kind, and sincere. 
No w^onder we're happy whenever he's near. 
In spite of all obstacles Love has its way 
So thus it did happen that Cupid one day. 
Was seen standing there by the china match-stand, 
A-holding his shepherdess girl by the hand. 
Intently she gazed at his serious face. 
Was pleased with his wonderful strength and his 

grace. 
It seemed that they felt such a happy content 
To be there together. How strange this event! 
And how did it happen? Why nobody knew. 
And yet, you'll believe me, my story is true. 
The clock? — Oh, it stopped in the deepest respect! 
Or could it have been from the Cupid's neglect? 
31 



A PRESENTATION 

The Circle now greets you 

With deepest affection 
And begs you accept with 

Its little selection, 
Best wishes for now and 

The future, attended 
By all the best blessings 

Harmoniously blended. 

PRESENTING AN OFFICIAL BADGE 

Golden-Wedding Anniversary 

Loyal little Lady of the G. A. R., 
We, your sisters, give to you this small gold star, 
Just because we love you and we know you are 
One to wear it worthily and nobly do 
All the little talisman requires of you. 
Browning wrote a poem to his star, — his wife. 
Fifty years you've brightened, of your husband's life. 
Though he's not expressed it in a measured rhyme 
You alone have been his star in all this time. 



32 



TO MRS. JOSEPH WISER 

On Her Seventieth Birthday 

Seventy summers have passed aw^ay, 

Seventy winters so cold and gray, 

Seventy springs with their gladness true, 

Seventy autumns of varied hue. 

Sweet are the memories of childhood's joys, — 

Dearly loved parents, and pretty toys. 

Happy the thought of the school-day friends, 

Mischievous light to your eyes it sends. 

Precious the gifts that God gave you, too, — 

Love for your Joseph, his love for you, 

Better to-day than when first it came. 

Blessing you both and — changing your name. 

Fair as the day is, it needs its night, 

Making more fair all the next day's light. 

Just as the shadows the lights release. 

So all the sorrows the joys increase. 

Making them deeper and far more true. 

Happiness comes with the good you do. 

Granting to others that kindly smile 

Makes your own life all the more worth while. 

Just as the beauty that comes in spring. 

Seems in the summer a perfect thing; 

Has in the autumn a truer grace ; 

Finds in the winter its own best place, 

Brightening all in the dearest way. 

Driving the grayness and cold away: 

So all the beauty of your own life — 

Child, girl, and woman, and dear loved wife — • 

Comes to its autumn and deeper joy. 

God bless you, your Joe, your girl, your boy. 



33 



These are the thoughts of your schoolmate Sue, 

Who, in the classes at school with you, 

Noted your kindly and helpful way, 

Doing for others in work and play. 

So through the years you were always true, 

Dearest of all to your schoolmate Sue. 

TO THE LOST UMBRELLA 

You poor old umbrella I welcome you back 
Although to a stranger all beauty you lack. 
The loop of your fastening was lost long ago. 
That slit in the ribbon "does duty" you know. 
Your cover is faded and twice badly torn — 
So plain your wood handle — your tassel all worn, 
Yet you are the best old umbrella I know; 
And while you've been missing I've wanted you so! 
As now it is raining a steady downpour, 
I stopped at this office to seek you once more ; 
And oh, how I welcome you, faithful old friend, 
So worn, yet so willing protection to lend ! 



34 



THE LILY-BELLS' CHIME 

'Twas Easter and the day was fair. 

The sweet spring odors filled the air. 

Not far away the church-bells' chime 

Told out a glad and tuneful rhyme. 

A gray-haired man was feeling sad, 

For loneliness does not make glad 

The heart of him who is alone. 

His family long before had gone 

To foreign lands, quite far away. 

Where they would spend the Easter day ; 

While he, for business, must stay here 

Away from those to him most dear. 

The man was holding in his hand, 

While thinking of that foreign land, 

A little spray of lily-bells 

In which a dainty fragrance dwells. 

The blossoms trembled that he held ; 

It seemed that soft, sweet voices welled- 

The purest tone from each white bell — 

And these the words they seemed to tell: 

"To church, oh come to church with me." 

He felt the soft appeal to be 

A message that he ought to heed. 

The lily-bells had known his need 

Of sympathy on this glad day 

When those he loved were far away. 

He wore the little spray of flowers 

And spent in church the morning hours. 

'Twas long since he had been there last, 

And thoughts of long ago came fast. 

The lily-bells with him rejoiced. 

The sympathy they felt was voiced 

In every fragrant little bell. 



35 



They knew he understood so well 
Each pure and happy little flower, 
And God's own blessing gave him power 
To read aright each holy thought 
The little lily-bells had brought. 



36 



SINCE I LOVE YOU 

All the world has fairest beauty 

That it is a joy to view, 
Pleasure comes with every duty, 

Since I love you. 

Every passing hour is brighter 

And the hardest things to do 

Seem so easy, now, and lighter, 

Since 1 love you. 

Kinder thoughts for others' sorrow, 

And a firm wish to be true ; 
Better plans for each to-morrow — 

Since I love you. 
Noble aims and pure ideals, 

Giving others all their due. 
Honest pride that right reveals — 
Since I love you. 

What a wonderful contentment 

Gently sweet, and strangely new, 
Steals away all life's resentment. 

Since I love you. 
All the troubles sent to try me 

Find me strong to conquer, too. 
There is nothing can defy me. 
Since I love you. 



37 



THAT DEAR OLD HOME 

From a home of simple beauty 

Midst the trees that whispered low, 
And gave ofEering of plenty, 

I had to go 
To a plain and prosy dwelling 

Where stem duty ruled supreme, 
And the passing hours were telling 

No fairy dream. 

Should I ever be forgetting 

That dear home of long ago, 
There would come a strange regretting 

To make me know 
How that dear home's simple beauty 

Just recalled from day to day 
Finds a place with sternest duty 

And cheers my way. 

There is pleasure in returning 

To that pretty little place, 
All details in thought discerning. 

Let time retrace, 
Take me back to boyhood's gladness. 

When from care I was so free, 
And no thought of this life's sadness 

Had come to me. 



38 



ALTA CHASE 

Have you seen Alta Chase, 
That maid of dainty grace 

Whose sunny smile 

And glance er' while 
A frown can soon replace? 
That frown is nought to fear; 
She's only quite sincere, 

As you well know, 

To plainly show 
The thought that is severe. 

But when the tears are near. 
Sweet Alta will not hear 

The word you say, 

Say what you may; 
And yet you'll call her dear. 
She does not care for praise 
Whatever be its phase. 

If you insist, 

She will resist 
In all her pretty ways. 

A smile, a tear, a frown — 
This maid of fair renown — 

Do as she will, 

You'll call her still, 
The dearest girl in town. 
Her words, so quaint and bright. 
Are sure to give delight; 

And none the less, 

Her gentleness 
Gives heed to what is right. 



39 



She's the dearest girl in town. 
She may smile, or she may frown; 

For that pretty little dimple, 

For that manner sweet and simple. 
For that merry glance so dear 
Though it sparkle through a tear, 

You'll love her still. 

Do what she will, 
She's the dearest girl in town. 



40 



JIMMY'S DAY IN TOWN 

"Oh, yes, I've been In town before 

But just on the big Main street! 
I walked around from store to store 

In search of the fun I'd meet. 
I went to see the show, of course, 

With boys that I met that day. 
I tried to catch a run'way horse. 

But trolley-cars blocked my way. 

"To-day I came to town to see 

A lady, — a friend of mine. 
'T was all as nice as it could be — 

That ride on a new car line. 
At last I found the little place, 

Tucked in 'tween its neighbors, tight; 
And, seeing there her well-known face, 

I knew that I'd found it right. 

"I had to 'muse myself a spell 

With rake, and a great long hose. 
At first it all went very well — 

As far as a city boy knows ; 
But when I fired one little stone 

Just over a neighbor's roof. 
Two men appeared 'gainst me alone 

With stones in my hand as proof. 

"I then made use of that long hose. 

It sent out a good, strong stream. 
I wants to know how far it throws — 

Then I hear a woman scream. 
To right or left, to front or rear — 

Oh, where can a poor boy go 
That some wise head will not appear 

To say what he ought to know ! 
41 



"I'd hate to be a city boy 

With never a place to play. 
Fm sure I found no room for joy 

In all of this weary day. 
I couldn't fire a stone or two, 

Nor play with the great long hose. 
I couldn't yell, or play, or do 

A thing nor the old cop knows. 

"Oh! don't you want to come with me 
Where the woods and the roads are free? 
There'll be no one to drive us away — 
We'll be welcome as long as we stay. 
Come, come, where we'll have a chance to run. 
Come, come, where there's room for all our fun. 
Oh! don't you want to come with me 
And be glad as a boy can be?" 



42 



LEAF DANCE 

All the little leaves are calling: 

"Come and have a romp with me." 
"Down to earth we're softly falling. 

So glad are we!" 
"How the rough wind comes a-chasing, 

Driving us in merry way — 
Hurling, whirling, interlacing, 

In joyful play!" 

As they fall the leaves are whispering 

Nature stories strange and true. 
And they keep one ever wondering 

At all they do. 
Every leaf has certain duties 

And will cheerfully obey, 
Each one adding to earth's beauties 

In some small way. 

When the leaves' playtime is ended 

And their real life work is done. 
When their joy with ours has blended 

They, one by one. 
Rest, until, by transformation, 

Life and energy set free. 
Of next season's new creation, 

A part can be. 



43 



AUTUMN SONG 

When the leaves are falling 

Softly o'er the ground, 
When the nuts are tumbling 

Down with thumpy sound, 
When the squirrels skurry 

Gathering winter store — 
All in such a flurry. 

Seeking more and more, 
Don't you love to wander 

Through the mellowed wood ? 
Don't you like to ponder? 

Don't it do you good? 

When the flowers have faded 

Silently away, 
And with softened shading 

Fades the autumn day, 
When the sun is gleaming 

Through a golden haze, 
Buds and seeds a-dreaming, 

Wrapped in leafy maze, 
Don't you love to wander 

Through the fragrant wood ? 
Don't you like to ponder? 

Don't it do you good? 

Though the birds departing, 
Sing a saddened song, 

Though the insects, darting, 
Stranger notes prolong, 

And the spiders, weaving, 
Woolly sacs prepare 



44 



There's no need of grieving. 

God is taking care. 
Aren't you glad that round you 

Sunbeams have appeared, — 
Warmly to surround you ? 

Has their promise cheered ? 

'TIS BETTER SO 

There is never need of sighing 

When a longed-for thing is gone, 
Yet there's ever need of trying 

When we see it pass along. 
If we do our best to gain it, 

And our efforts are in vain. 
Let us not be so discouraged — 

There are other things to gain; 
And if God in kindness keeps us 

Far from that for which we long, 
He has something better for us; 

And the trial but makes us strong 
For the duty that awaits us 

And will bring a blessing true, 
If we cheerfully accomplish 

What is given us to do. 



45 



RAINDROPS 

Though the little gray tones gather, 
And men call it "queer old weather," 

Don't you care. 
'T is the raindrops making ready 
For a frolic, quaint and steady, 

In the air. 

How the little raindrops patter, 
With a most persistent clatter 

On the pane! 
There's a melody of motion, 
And a resonant commotion 

In the rain. 

Every raindrop ends its chatter 
With a curious little spatter, — 

Disappears, 
Each as great a mystic wonder 
As that dreadful, deep-toned thunder 

That one hears. 

Oh, there certainly is pleasure 

In the strange and rhythmic measure 

That they tell. 
All the tones are sympathetic. 
And of joy seem so prophetic, — 

All is well. 



46 



TO-MORROW 

**To-morrow, to-morrow," 

So often we say, 
Though many the duties 

Awaiting to-day. 
Elusive to-morrow 

That ever will be 
Just beyond reckoning 

By you, and by me. 

"Manana, mafiana," 

The Spaniard will chide 
The one who has duty 

But turns it aside, 
Thus stating so simply 

The cause of great wrong; 
The bird sings to-morrow, — 

We hear not its song. 

The duty done later 

Is not so well done. 
Nor credit it brings us 

So honorably won ; 
And each little thing we 

Neglected to-day 
Will come into mind when 

We kneel down to pray. 



47 



SPRING SUNBEAMS 

Bright spring sunbeams coming in 
Show us what new tasks begin, 
Point to us the faded paint, 
Mark for us the colors faint 
Of the coverings on the chairs, 
How the varnish dulls and wears, 
Notes the falling paper, too, 
Shows necessity for new. 
Everything that needs repair 
They outline with truthful care. 

Clothing, now more brightly shown, 
Threadbare spots are all made known; 
Coziness of winter past, 
Those sun shadows deeply cast. 
Each ungraceful line makes clear 
Warning us that spring is near. 
All our world must now awake 
Interest in its beauty take. 
All must be in keeping true 
Blending bright tones, fresh and new. 

Dingy car, and muddy street 
Now offend the senses neat. 
Those spring sunbeams clearly show 
How this same old world would go 
Were not their own bright selves sent 
Just to teach us 'twas not meant 
That we think alone of care, — 
Beauty should be everywhere. 
Sunbeams lead in cheerful way. 
Make it pleasure to obey. 



48 



LONELY 

The cozy home is all so still 

Save the busy little clock, 
And that gives me a lonely chill 

By its coldly told tick-tock. 
My mother is away this week. 

I am keeping ''bachelor's hall" 
With Gern, my dog, so true and meek. 

We are lonely, — that is all. 

When Gern's dear head is gently placed 

Just beneath my busy arm, 
My thought of work is quite effaced 

By his eyes' appealing charm. 
I have to pet my dear old friend 

He's as good as he can be. 
Gern satisfied, I can attend 

To the task awaiting me. 

Yes, Gern and I are good true friends. 

We are lonely, — that is all. 
What comfort mother's presence lends. 

We are lonely, — that is all. 
The home it seems is not quite right. 

We are lonely, — that is all. 
'T is mother dear that makes it bright. 

Yes, we're lonely, — that is all. 



49 



CONSOLATION 

We haven't any time for tears, 

Nor any cause to frown ; 
A flower may open right side up 
Whose bud grows upside down. 

Let's bravely meet the trials that come 

And do the best we can, 
Then things will right themselves for us, 

Though not as we may plan. 

We know in nature nought is lost. 

And even failures aid 
In bringing forth some good effect, 

So why are we afraid? 

And that which seems to hinder most, 

May help the thing along. 
We must not let the worry come 

To spoil our happy song. 

It is the happy song within 

That brightens all without 
And gives us just the hope we need 

To drive away the doubt. 



50 



THE CLOCK 

With its even tick-tock, 

The serious clock, 

Whenever you heed it, gives greeting. 

By its key-given powers, 

It points to the hours 

And counts every moment that's fleeting. 

In monotonous rhyme, 

Or sweet-sounding chime 

Like silvery bells joyously ringing. 

With a sympathy true, 

'Tis telling for you. 

The sad or glad hours life is bringing. 



51 



JUST TO BE TRUE 

Just to be true to the duty that comes, 

Just to be true every day, 
True to one's friends, and true to one's self, 

True to those met on the way, 
Brings one to honors, the highest and best. 
Gives to one's life a firm purpose and zest. 

Just to be true to one's country and home. 

Just to be true in each thought. 
True in each w^ord, and true in each look, 

True in each deed that is vurought. 
Makes one a chivalrous hero to-day. 
Who in his strength drives all evil away. 

Just to be true to one's concience and God, 

Just to be true in one's heart. 
True in one's sympathy, charity, love. 

True when the trials have a part, 
Makes one a hero most valiant and brave, 
Able to conquer, to help, and to save. 

Just to be true 

In all that we do. 
Just to be true every way. 
Just to be true 

In all that we do. 
Just to be true every day. 



52 



TO A BUTTERFLY 

Flitter by, flutter by, 
Dainty white butterfly. 

Poising so airily, 

Romping so merrily. 
Seeking the honey that's hid in the flower. 
Flutter so softly by, 
Weary white butterfly, 

Resting so dozily. 

Close your wings cosily — 
Twilight is chasing the sun from your bower. 

Zephyrs sing hush-a-by. 
Pretty white butterfly, — 

Swaying you carefully. 

Whispering so prayerfully. 
While you are resting on that little leaf. 
Someone is passing by. 
Sleeping white butterfly; 

Gathers the leafy spray, 

Carries you far away 
And in a parlor you waken to grief. 

Wander by, sadly by, 
Lonely white butterfly. 

Day passes wearily. 

Night comes on drearily. 
Honey is gone, and in vain you seek more. 
Flitter by, flutter by. 
No more, white butterfly. 

For so forgetting you, 

Someone's regretting you. 
Like a white petal you lie on the floor. 



53 



FEBRUARY 

Just a hint of warmer breeze, 
Just a twitter in the trees, 
Just a dainty valentine, 

With its quaint love-laden line. 
Just a flower with meaning tender, 
Just the kind thought of the sender, 
Just the gently falling rain. 

Makes one dream of spring again. 



54 



LULLABY 

Mother's little sleepy boy 

Loosens his hold on his best loved toy, 
Lets it lie unheeded by, 

Dainty dream fancies are calling. 
Soon the pretty white eye-lids close 

Softly down to the cheek's fair rose. 
Simple grace, and smiling face, — 

Innocent dreams gently falling. 

Mother's boy will sweetly sleep 

While the dear toys on the watch will keep. 
There they stand quite near at hand, 

Waiting the joyful awaking. 
When the pretty white eye-lids rise 

Up from two little bright blue eyes, 
Mother's boy, with eager joy, 

Toy-land's own glad time is making. 



55 



DO YOU KNOW? 

Do you know the meaning true 
Of all the words that are said to you? 
Words that come and words that go 
Mean just as much as the speakers know. 

Thoughts of purity and love 
Will bear the words to the Throne above; 
Evil thoughts will bear words down, 
And make them like to an ugly frown. 

Strange the conversation then 
Between the good and the evil men. 
Each has words to suit the thought, 
Yet all that is said may come to nought. 

Ignorance is Good's defense. 
Good knows not of the evil sense, 
Wonders what the words do mean, 
Decides, at last, on a meaning clean. 

Good may speak to evil mind 

Of things that are pure, and true, and kind. 

Evil understands them? No. 

But thinks he does and will answer so. 

Evil will misunderstand; 

The good will change by its magic wand, 

But an eagerness to learn 

Will give a power that will help discern. 

Pictures made of words depend 

On light and shade that our own thoughts lend. 

Study those that are the best 

And be unwilling to view the rest. 

56 



THE LAST LEAF 

The one last leaf 
On the maple tree, 

Fluttered downward — 
Right to me. 

I saw it fall 

To a near-by roof 
Where it trembled — 

Still aloof. 

Then on it came 
To the very edge, 

Poising lightly — 
O'er the ledge. 

A sudden breeze, 

And it whirled about, 
Through the eve trough- 

Towards the spout. 

And there it paused 
As in doubt or fear. 

Turned, and wafted — 
Right down here. 

And here it saw 
Just a tiny seed. 

Lying coldly, — 
Knew its need. 

It took the seed 

In its kind embrace. 
Found for it a — 

Resting place. 

57 



I left the leaf 

And the seed at rest, 
God will wake them — 

When 'tis best. 

The leaf but sought 
For a work to do, 

Found it, trusted, — 
God is true. 



58 



WALKING ON THE SHADOWS 

As I walked across the pavement 

'Neath a bright electric light, 
I was frightened by a spider 

That came suddenly in sight. 
Twas the very largest spider 

That, till then, I'd ever met, 
And it came so quickly towards me 

That my foot was almost set 
Right upon it ; but I dodged it. 

Then I stepped again with care, 
For it seemed the dreadful object 

Was a-moving everywhere. 
I sprang sidewise to a grass-plot. 

Wondering, would the spider spring. 
When I turned, I saw it coming. 

It was such a crawly thing! 
But it seemed that it was spinning — 

Spinning on the pavement? No! 
Glancing upward, there I saw it — 

It was just a shadow — oh! 
How I laughed then at my fearing 

Of a thing so very small 
And so very far above me! 

It was but the shadow's fall 
That enlarged the little s(p) inner 

As he wove beneath the light, 
Making fast right to its framework. 

Working there with all his might. 
Aren't we walking on the shadows 

When we fear that we may fail ? 
Should we not look often upward 

That such fears may not prevail? 
WTiile we're walking on the shadows, 

Each imagined harm seems real; 
But our looking bravely upward 

Will the simple truth reveal. 
59 



TO THE STENOGRAPHER 

"Clip, clip, clirrup, 

Clip, clip, clee, 
You are happy, 

So are we." 
So sing the keys of your typewriter, 
Making the burden of work lighter. 

"Clu, clu, caclu, 

Clo, clu, clo," 
Say the keys when 

Work is slow. 
Each one responding so steadily, 
Writing the symbols so readily. 

"Click, click, ca-click, 

Cli, cli, click," 
Speak the keys 

With accent quick 
When there is much that you must do 
Eagerly, cheerily, helping you. 

"Clug, dug, caloo, 

Biff-bang-bo." 
Oh, how roughly 

It seems to go. 
When you are feeling dissatisfied, 
When you are tired and your temper tried! 

Each key answers 

In the tone 
Given it by 

You alone. 
You lead the song of your typewriter, 
You make the burden of work lighter. 

60 



A SMILE WORTH WHILE 

A smile worth while 
Is a smile that shows 

An earnest thought 
As it comes and goes. 

It does not come 
As a mocking boast 

That one can smile 
While he suffers most. 

It is not given 

Just to gain an end, 

To win a way, 

Or deceive a friend. 

It cannot join 

With an angry thought 
Or be a means 

For a purpose wrought. 

The smile worth while, 
Is the smile that's meant 

And that with thought 
Is sincerely blent. 

It never goes 

With a social word 
That is not meant 

And is scarcely heard. 

It doesn't pretend 
That the love is dear 

When it is false 
And can disappear. 



6i 



*Tis better far 

That there be no smile 
Than such pretense 

That is not worth while. 

The truthful smile 
Can so gently say 

What can be told 
In no other way. 

The smile worth while 
Is the smile sincere, 

That comes and goes 
With a message dear. 



62 



MUSIC— BY DICK 

Pita-pata, pit-pat, pit-pat, pit-pat, 

Pita-pata, pit-pat, pit-pat, pit. 
Hark! Hear those hoof-beats, light and quick! 
What horse is coming? Dear old Dick. 

Pita-pata, pit-pat, pit-pat, pit-pat, 

Pita-pata, pit-pat, pit-pat, pit. 
Dick is a work horse, brave and strong. 
Yet in his hoof-beats there's a song. 

Pita-pata, pit-pat, pit-pat, pit-pat, 

Pita-pata, pit-pat, pit-pat, pit. 
White is the star on Dick's broad brow. 
Hark! Don't you hear him coming now? 

Pita-pata, pit-pat, pit-pat, pit-pat, 

Pita-pata, pit-pat, pit-pat, pit. 
Dick is so black, — well cared for too. 
I hear him coming now, don't you? 

Pita-pata, pit-pat, pit-pat, pit-pat, 

Pita-pata, pit-pat, pit-pat, pit. 
Dick has a master, kind and good, 
Whose every glance is understood. 

Pita-pata, pit-pat, pit-pat, pit-pat, 

Pita-pata, pit-pat, pit-pat, pit. 
That is Dick's music every day. 
Hush, how the echoes die away! 

Pita-pata, pit-pat, pit-pat, pit-pat, 
Pita-pata, pit-pat, pit-pat, pit. 



63 



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